Just One Kiss
by Sweet-Porcelain16
Summary: The five times Harry and Ron kissed and it didn't mean anything, and the one time when it did. Harry/Ron. Slash.


**Description: The five times Harry and Ron kissed and it didn't mean anything, and the one time when it did. Harry/Ron. Slash.**

**A/N: Woo my first Harry Potter fanfic. It's good to be writing in British English again. I don't like having to americanise my writing. My first five-and-one, so... Some of them are really long, and some are shorter. This is mostly cannon with events, but not with relationships and stuff. It'll make sense when you read it. And they spent Christmas at Hogwarts in their fifth year, I've decided. Harry/Ron, with a little bit of Dean/Seamus in parts. Unrequited Harry/Ginny if you squint. Unbeta-ed, as usual, so ignore any stupid spelling mistakes and stuff. **

**Disclaimer: I feel like I should be putting something long and witty here, but I can't think of anything, so just know that I am not J.K. Rowling. I also don't have enough money for you to sue me for. So don't bother. **

**Slash. You have been warned. Rated T for language and sex references and boys snogging each other. **

* * *

One

The first time, it was a dare. The fourth year Gryffindor boys were relaxing in the dormitory, celebrating the end of the first task. Ron and Harry were finally on speaking terms again, and their friendship had picked right back up as if nothing had happened, which Harry was more than thankful for. He didn't think he could cope with awkward conversations with Ron on top of everything else that was happening to and around him.

"Hey, anyone fancy a game of Truth or Dare?" Seamus called from his position on Dean's bed. The Irish boy was sprawled on his back, his head in his best friend's lap. Harry wondered vaguely if there was something going on there. He dismissed the thought as soon as it had come; Dean and Seamus were just good friends.

A murmur of agreement rippled around the room at Seamus' words. Ron, however, rolled his eyes.

"Really, Seamus? We're not twelve year old girls." Seamus ignored him.

"Right, let's go down to the common room. I'll go get some others." Harry and the rest of the boys made their way back down to the deserted common room. A few minutes later, Seamus joined them, followed by Hermione, Lavender and Parvati, Angelina and Alicia, Katie Bell, Oliver Wood, and finally, eyes sparking, the Weasley twins. The group settled themselves into rather a messy circle, and Harry found himself squished between Ron and Neville.

The first part of the game, Harry thought, was pretty hilarious. He watched in amusement as Fred sung a love song to Parvati, Dean admitted his feelings for Seamus (which, as it turned out, Seamus returned,) and Hermione was forced to give an awkward lap dance to an unsuspecting George. And then it was Harry's turn.

"Truth or Dare, Mr. Potter?" Seamus asked in mock seriousness.

"Dare," Harry answered immediately. He wasn't about to chicken out.

"I dare you to..." He appeared to be deep in thought for a while, stroking a non-existent beard in concentration. His eyes lit up in excitement. "I dare you to kiss Ron."

There was a sudden outbreak of chatter. While Fred had already dared Neville to kiss Angelina, and Lavender had been made to kiss Oliver, this was different. This was two guys.

"I-" Harry started, but Seamus was looking at him with eyes that clearly said '_what, are you chicken?' _Harry grimaced and turned to Ron, who was an interesting shade of scarlet. He leaned forwards, aiming for Ron's cheek. Seeming to know what he was about to do, Seamus added

"It has to be on the lips." Harry wanted to argue, but the expression on the sandy-haired boy's face said that there was no point. With a courage that seemed to come from nowhere, Harry leaned towards his blushing best friend and brought their lips together, ignoring the intently watching crowd. Their mouthed barely touched; it was just a quick brush of the lips. Harry pulled away quickly, putting his thumping heart and sweaty palms down to the fact that he'd never kissed anyone before, and ignored the idea that it had anything, anything at all to do with it being Ron whom he'd just kissed. There was a wolf whistle, which Harry guessed had come from one of the twins, and an outbreak of nervous giggling. And then the game carried on, moving swiftly onwards as if nothing had happened. But Harry couldn't concentrate. His mind lingered on the kiss, replaying it over and over in his head. Beside him, Ron was staring, obviously deep in thought at the opposite wall. He wondered if Ron, too, was thinking about the way their lips had fit together so perfectly, even if it was just for the briefest second. Needless to say, with his mind so distracted, Harry didn't sleep well that night.

* * *

Two

The second time, it was out of relief. The second task was over. Hands grabbed at Harry, pulling him away from the water and towards the first aid tent. He was fine. He didn't need first aid. He wanted Ron. Ron, however, had been taken in the opposite direction. Harry was scared. A second ago, Ron was there, and then he wasn't, and Harry didn't know where he was, but he needed to see him, needed to see that he was alive, and someone was talking to him but he couldn't make out any of the words, all he could think was _Ron, Ron, Ron. _

"Please," He said eventually, surprised to hear how weak his voice sounded. "Please, let me see Ron. I'm fine." Madam Pomfrey shook her head, dabbing some ointment onto a gash on his cheek. Harry cried out in pain, whipping his head away. "Please. I'm fine. I want to see Ron." Finally understanding his panic, Madam Pomfrey called for someone to fetch Ron. The redheaded boy entered the tent a minute later, his hair dripping. "Ron," Harry said, rushing over to him and pulling him into a hug. It was so strange, so uncharacteristic of him, but he didn't care. He'd hated it, hated the feeling that he might not save Ron, that he might not-

"Harry," Ron murmured into Harry's hair. "Harry, you're shaking!"

"Thank god you're alright, I-" but he didn't seem to know what he wanted to say. Harry held him at arm's length, drinking in the fact that he was here, he was alive, it was okay. He stared into Ron's freckled face, breathing heavily. He pulled him in for another hug, trying to put all of the relief, the joy, the pure elation that Ron was alive into that hug. And then, Harry didn't know how it happened, but he was pulling away from the hug, pressing his lips to Ron's, and for the tiniest fraction of a second they lingered there, and then he pulled away, and the boys were still hugging as if nothing had happened. And Harry once again pushed away thoughts of the kiss, knowing in his mind that it was out of relief that Ron was alive that it had happened, nothing more. He didn't thing about what it meant that Ron was the thing he'd miss the most. He didn't think that Krum had rescued his girlfriend, and so had Cedric. He firmly decided that it was brotherly, the same way that Fleur had saved he sister. Ron was like a brother to him. That was it. That was all there was too it. And that kiss, which Harry was now sure that he'd imagined, had meant nothing, nothing at all. Because surely, if it had meant something, Ron would have mentioned it, but he hadn't. So Harry didn't, not wanting to freak him out. When they separated, Ron laughed.

"Blimey, Harry. It's good to see you, too."

* * *

Three

The third time was all Hermione's fault. It was almost a year later; Christmastime. As Mr and Mrs Weasley had gone out to Romania again to see Charlie, (He'd been incredibly worried about his father after the snake incident, but his work meant that he couldn't go and see him himself), so Harry, Ron and Hermione were spending Christmas at Hogwarts. The school was beautifully decorated with tinsel and glitter everywhere. There was also, much to the amusement of the people watching and the embarrassment of those caught, a sprig of mistletoe hung over the fireplace in Gryffindor tower. Seamus, of course, found this hilarious, and enjoyed 'accidently' pushing two people under it, and laughing as they flushed and kissed awkwardly. So far, he'd caused seven awkward encounters between the most unlikely pairings. Even Harry, who was growing slightly bored with his friend's antics, had to laugh when Lee Jordan and Cormac McLaggen were shoved together under the plant. Ron had found the whole thing hilarious to begin with, but became bored after he failed to get Seamus under the mistletoe with Lavender Brown.

"I have a boyfriend, mate," Seamus had said, winking and darting away when Ron tried to shove him towards a slightly disappointed looking Lavender. Dean, who had just the previous day been forced (not by Seamus) to kiss Padma Patil outside the Great Hall, said nothing.

Hermione, however, watched the whole thing with great interest. It wasn't until one night a week later that Harry found out why.

The trio were discussing lesson plans for Dumbledore's Army, Harry stretched out on his favourite armchair by the fire, Hermione curled up in hers. Ron was sitting by the fireplace, warming his hands over the flames.

"Harry," Hermione started, sitting up. "Aren't you cold?" The question surprised Harry, who turned to look at her quizzically.

"No, not really," He said blankly.

"You- You look very cold. Your lips are blue." Hermione had never been a very good liar, and Harry didn't understand what she was saying.

"No, really, I'm fine,"

"You should sit by the fire to warm up," She told him firmly.

"Hermione, I-"

"Please, Harry? We don't want you catching pneumonia! Then what would happen to Dumbledore's army?"

"What's pneumonia?" Ron asked from the carpet. Hermione ignored him.

"Please, Harry?"

"Uh, alright..." Confused, Harry got up, moving so that he was sitting next to Ron by the flames. "Better?"

"Much." It was quiet for a second, in which Harry and Ron shared confused glances. Then Hermione spoke up again. "Oh, would you look at that!" She was pointing to a point above their heads, her voice full of over exaggerated surprise. Both boys' eyes flicked up to the leafy, green plant hanging above their heads. "Mistletoe!" Hermione exclaimed. Harry caught Ron's eye. He looked slightly nervous.

"You set this up," Ron said indignantly.

"So what if I did?" She replied proudly. "Come on, you know the rules." Harry rolled his eyes, faking nonchalance.

"Alright," He said in a falsely calm voice. "Alright, it's no big deal!" Whatever he told the other two, Harry's heart was beating unnecessarily fast. Ron raised his eyebrows at him, but said nothing. He glanced once at Hermione, who was grinning broadly. And then, suddenly, there were a pair of soft lips on his own. Ron, surprisingly, had decided to just go for it. Instinctively, Harry closed his eyes and rested a hand on Ron's cheek. The kiss only lasted a few seconds before they parted, but Harry felt his lips tingle where Ron's had been. He hardly thought it counted as a kiss; their lips only touched, there was no... Movement like there had been with Cho... And then he was comparing the two kisses inside his head. The kiss with Cho had been longer, but... He blinked. It'd felt nicer with Ron. Better, almost. More... Right. With Cho it had been long but less sweet, and she'd been crying, and he'd felt a lot more uncomfortable than he had with Ron-

"Hey, Harry?" Harry blinked, coming back to himself.

"Hmm?"

"Are you alright?"

"Sure, sure." But Harry excused himself to go to bed not long after that, his mind turning. It had felt better to kiss Ron than it had to kiss Cho. He'd liked kissing Ron. He was in deep trouble.

* * *

Four

The fourth time, it was an experiment. Harry had been thinking about it for a while now, about the way it had felt when Ron kissed him. It had been amazing, better than anything he'd ever felt in his life, he'd decided. And he'd started to see Ron in a different light. His eyes shined like a thousand diamonds. He knew it was cliché, but it was true. When he talked, Harry just watched his mouth, and wondered what it would feel like to have it move against his own, properly. But Harry was confused. Were these normal hormone filled teenage boy feelings? Or were they... Something else? Did other boys feel like this about other guys? Was it just part of growing up? Was it normal to be curious? Or was he, Harry, actually gay? The obvious thing to do, Harry realised, would be to ask Dean or Seamus. As Seamus was openly gay and Dean bisexual, they'd understand what Harry was going through, but... Seamus was a gossip. There was no way that he'd keep something so exciting a secret, and Dean told Seamus everything, so Seamus would hear even if he only told Dean. So he was stuck. He was lying on his back on next to the (now mistletoe free) fireplace, pondering how incredibly stuck he was, when Ron came down the dorm stairs, looking serious.

"Harry," He said, and there was an unmistakable quiver to his voice. "Harry, come and help me."

"What?" Harry looked up at him. Ron's eyes were wide.

"Dean and Seamus. In the dorm." His voice was faint.

"You didn't... interrupt them, did you?" Harry asked warily.

"They were snogging, Harry!" He said, as if that explained it all.

"Yes, that is typically what happens when two people who are dating finally get some alone time," Hermione said, joining them. "Really, Ron. It's not that big of a deal." But Harry's heart was sinking. Ron's reaction to seeing Dean and Seamus kissing was one of horror, maybe even disgust. He felt like he'd been punched in the gut.

"I know, but all I wanted was to get my Quidditch book! And now..." He shuddered. Feigning mild curiosity, Harry asked

"Do you have a problem with it? With guys kissing and stuff?"

"What?" Ron asked, surprised. "Of course not! I'm not- I couldn't be- Harry, Charlie's gay! I don't-" He continued to splutter at Harry, seemingly lost for words. Harry's hope grew.

"So what's this about?" He gestured with a hand to Ron.

"I don't know, it just took me by surprise, that's all. You'd have expected them to at least lock the door... I've never seen that before."

"You're telling me you've never seen two boys kiss before." Harry clarified, exasperated.

"No!" Harry rolled his eyes. Dean and Seamus kissed all the time, at least in the common rooms. He couldn't believe Ron hadn't noticed.

"Ron, you've kissed a boy," Hermione reminded him gently. Ron blinked as this idea seemed to dawn on him. Harry squirmed uncomfortably.

"Oh yeah." He said. "Oh yeah."

"And," Harry added, praying that this wasn't too far, "Surely you've thought about what it'd be like, you know, to properly kiss a guy or something." Ron seemed to consider it for a second.

"I guess..." He broke off, thinking. "Hey, now you mention it... Hermione, what's it like to snog a guy? I've been wondering." Hermione started.

"Oh, I... I really don't know, Ron. I mean, me and Viktor kissed a bit, but... Oh, it's not really something you can explain!" Ron rolled his eyes at his usually so articulate friend.

"Fine. I'll go and ask Seamus."

"No!" Hermione said, grabbing hold of his arm. "Don't interrupt them again!"

"Oh yeah, oh yeah..." Ron sat back down, and it was silent again. "Hey, Harry! Do you

know-?"

"No, Ron. I have about as much experience as you. The _same _amount of experience as you."

"Oh." The silence was awkward this time. Ron's eyes were still on Harry's face, as if deep in thought. It made Harry feel slightly uncomfortable. "Hey Harry?" Harry was slightly tired of Ron.

"Yes, Ron?" Ron seemed to be struggling for words.

"This is- I mean, I- Could you- I want to know- I mean, you don't have to if you- But I want to know-"

"You want me to kiss you." Harry cut through his rambling bluntly, trying to hide the excitement bubbling in his chest. Ron glanced round to make sure the common room was completely empty before replying.

"Well... Yes." Harry sucked in a breath. It was true, he'd been thinking about this moment for a _long _time. So he wasted no time in replying.

"For experimental purposes, of course," Ron was quick to add.

"Sure," Harry smiled. "An experiment. Stay still." They seemed to have forgotten that Hermione was there. Harry leaned in slowly, giving Ron time to change his mind and back away. But he didn't, and their lips met. Harry gasped. His eyes fluttered closed, and Ron's did the same. He could feel Ron's hand, holding onto his waist, and then moving to his shoulder as if he didn't know what to do with it. Harry couldn't believe what was happening. He was kissing, properly kissing Ron Weasley. Harry let his hand wander to Ron's hair, then resting his it on the back of Ron's neck. When they finally came up for air, Ron dropped his hand from Harry's waist (where it had eventually lingered) as if burned. Harry let his hand fall, too. They stared at each other for a second, their breath mingling. Then Ron turned away, jumping up. There was something that Harry didn't recognise in his eyes.

"Okay. Thanks, Harry." And he was gone, racing up to the dormitory. Harry collapsed back onto the sofa, his heart thumping. A hand on his shoulder made him jump. He'd forgotten that Hermione was there at all.

"He feels the same way, you know," She said simply, before turning away and leaving for her own dormitory. Harry snorted, not questioning how Hermione knew his secret. But she was wrong about Ron.

The next morning, Ron greeted him with his usual smile. The events of the previous evening were never brought up again.

* * *

Five

The fifth time, they were drunk. The Gryffindor team had won the Quidditch cup without Harry's help, and Ginny had thrown herself at Harry, hugging him tight. She looked up at him then, almost as if expecting him to... no. That was silly. Ginny didn't have feelings for him anymore. But there was definitely something in her eye, in the way she looked at him. In her _brown _eyes, so far away from Ron's blue ones that Harry loved so much. Ron tossed Harry a butterbeer as he moved away from Ginny, which he drunk quickly, draining the bottle within a few seconds. He had another. And another. And then a glass of firewhiskey, or two, or three. And then he couldn't think anymore. Harry had never been drunk before. It was a strange feeling, like he couldn't process what was going on, and he couldn't think things through clearly. Hermione, to no one's surprise, had gone upstairs to bed at the sight of all the alcohol, leaving Harry feeling like he'd ditched a parent.

The music was hurting his ears. Ron was sitting in a far corner, nursing a bottle of butterbeer. Harry joined him with his own glass of firewhiskey.

"Hey Harry," Ron slurred, his pupils not entirely focused on him. "Are you having fuuuun?" Harry nodded enthusiastically.

"Good," Ron said. He grinned at Harry, showing his teeth. "Me too."

"Ron," Harry said eventually, nodding his head in time to the music. "Ron, you're great." He didn't know where it had come from, he'd just felt the sudden urge to let his best friend know about his greatness.

"Thanks mate!" Ron said, his face genuinely lighting up. Harry giggled.

"Your eyes are nice when you get all happy!"

"Your lips are nice when you get all talkey!" Harry pondered this for a moment.

"Talkey's not a word," He informed Ron seriously.

"Yesh it is."

"S'not."

"It is."

"Shhh!" Harry suddenly put a finger to Ron's lips. "Shhh!" But he'd forgotten why he was '_shh_'ing Ron, and his finger stayed on Ron's lips.

"Your lips are nice, too." Harry said matter of factly. "Can I kiss them?"

"Yes." Said Ron, pulling him in by his Hogwarts tie and crashing their lips together. And then they were kissing, drunken and sloppy and wet, their lips sliding against each other messily, neither one of them caring that everyone could be watching them. When they pulled apart for air, Ron let out a high pitched giggle. "That was fun," He said. "We should do it again." But before Harry could agree that yes, they definitely should do it again, Ron was asleep, the bottle of butterbeer falling from his hand. Harry scowled.

The next morning, Harry woke up to a pounding headache. Slowly, he made his way down the stairs to the common room, where Hermione was, strangely, stirring a cauldron in the middle of the floor.

"It's a hangover antidote," She informed them tiredly. I'll let you know when it's done.

A few minutes later and practically all of Gryffindor were waiting for Hermione to finish her potion, groaning and rubbing their heads, as if it would cure the pounding ache. She handed out little beakers full of the blue potion. Harry accepted his with a grateful smile, downing it in one. Instantly, his headache was gone, and his eyes stopped having to squint against the light.

"Cheers, Hermione," He said tiredly. Next to him, Ron grinned.

"Do you remember anything that happened last night?" The redhead asked the group at large. "I don't remember a thing. Nill. Nada." Harry grimaced. He _did _remember; every single thing that had happened. But he wasn't about to tell Ron.

* * *

One

It was one of the rare moments Harry and Ron had spent alone since coming to the Burrow for Bill and Fleur's wedding. Hermione was away tidying the basement, but both boys had finished their chores and were sitting in the room they shared, finally relaxing. Well, Ron was relaxing. Harry was squirming. He knew he had to tell Ron before they went off and would be spending every second of every day together. They'd be sharing a tent, and Harry wanted Ron to have the opportunity to turn away if Harry was going to make him uncomfortable. It was just... How do you tell your best friend of six years that you're gay?

"Harry, can you-" Ron started.

"No, Ron, I have to tell you something. Something important." Ron blinked, and Harry saw that he was going into what he liked to call _serious-mode. _

"What is it?"

"Listen, the thing is..." He bit his lip uncomfortably. Uncharacteristically, Ron waited patiently. His stomach was doing somersaults. The words seemed to be caught in his throat. Just three words. Three, simple words. The hardest three words of his life. "Ron, I'm gay." He finally choked out. There was a moment's silence. Ron looked shocked. Harry ploughed on, "I wanted to tell you, because you're my best mate, and if we're going to be sharing a tent together then I don't want you to feel uncomfortable and- oof." _What? _Ron was... Ron was kissing Harry. And Harry was kissing back, and he was so confused, but it felt like heaven... And then Ron was gone, as quickly as he'd came, and he was talking in a rushed tone, his ears turning a shade of crimson,

"Bloody hell, I'm sorry, I didn't think, that's not what you meant, and-"

"Ron, what?"Harry interrupted. He had no idea what Ron was on about.

"ThethingisI'vekindalikedyouforagesbutIth oughtyoufanciedmysister." He said all in one breath. Harry blinked.

"I have no idea what you just said." That was a lie. He did have an idea what Ron had said, he just wanted, no, needed, to hear it again before he could believe it. Ron buried his red face in his hands before repeating, much more slowly,

"The thing is I've kinda liked you for ages but I thought you fancied my sister."

"No way." Harry said, still refusing to believe it. This was a joke. A trick.

"I'm so sorry," Ron breathed.

"Why are you sorry?"

"As soon as you said you were gay I thought that meant you liked _me_, but you don't I'm

just-" but this time it was Ron who was cut off.

"How long?" Harry said when they broke apart, chests heaving.

"Nearly a year and a half now." He muttered.

"The same," Harry confessed, unable to believe that they could have been doing _that_, kissing, for a year and a half.

"That long?" Ron asked, surprised

"Yeah. It was you. It was always you." And then they were kissing again, and it was better than anything in the world, having Ron's lips on his own and knowing that it wasn't a dare, it wasn't because they had to, or that they were drunk, it was because Ron felt exactly the same way. It wasn't careful, but it was sweet and messy and everything Harry had ever wanted and more. Only when the door opened did they break apart, jumping away from each other as if they'd been electrified.

"Blimey," Said Fred from the doorway.

"Wow," Said George from beside him.

"Is Ickle Ronnikins having his first kiss?" They said together, identical smirks on their faces.

"No," Ron said defiantly, glaring at his brothers.

"Hey Fred," Said George, holding out his hand. "You owe me five Galleons." Fred grumbled, dropping the gold into his twin's outstretched palm.

"You... _bet _on us..." Harry spluttered.

"Yep," George grinned. "That reminds me; OI HERMIONE! FRED OWES YOU FIVE GALLEONS!"

"_Hermione _bet on us?" Ron shook his head. "There is something seriously wrong with this."

"No mate," Fred sighed, "There is something seriously wrong with the fact that we've had to live with you whinging about your unrequited love for the past year." Hermione joined the twins in the door way, smiling.  
"Oh good, have you boys finally got your act together?" she took in their messed up hair and swollen lips. "Yes, it appears you have. Fred, five Galleons please." Fred handed her the money as Ron scowled.

"This is all very good and stuff," Ron glowered. Harry grinned. He was hot when he was angry. "But I would really like to be left alone with my boyfriend now. Off you go." And picking up his wand, he shut the door and cast the _Muffliato _charm over the room. "Good." He said, wrapping his arms around Harry's shoulders. "Now, where were we?"

* * *

**A/N: AND THEN THEY SNOGGED AND HAD GAYBIES AND THEY ALL LIVED HAPPILY EVER AFTER THE END.**

**... Sorry about the interfering Fred and George. They just turned up. They were being difficult, telling me I couldn't write a Harry Potter fanfiction without them. And Ron was being difficult in **_**four**_**, he wouldn't do what I told him. And Deamus just turned up unannounced to do some snogging, not that I'm complaining. I apologise for my OOC Ron. He just wouldn't do what I told him to, so I had to poke him a bit. But then he snogged Harry so it's all good. And that's a lot of times I've typed some variation of the word snog, and it's stopped sounding like a word.**

**Okay, I wrote this while high on Redvines. So if your name is Jess and you are judging me, then don't. I will throw a Pygmy Puff at you. **

**Anyway, reviews make me dance like a wild thing. In a good way of course. Is there even a bad way to dance like a wild thing? Whatever. Review, please! **

**Darcey xxx**


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